The Point of Return
by sweet-t0xic
Summary: Past the point of no return... Christine realizes her deep regret for leaving the Phantom. Maybe she CAN go back. Maybe the passionplay has only now begun. Yet little does she know that he's moved on, and someone else is singing the music of the night...
1. The Worst Kind of Regret

_Now I am here with you,_

_No second thoughts,_

_I've decided…_

_Decided…._

Christine sat on her chair, staring at the mirror in front of her. It made her shiver to know that two years ago, she had seen _him_ through it. "Look at your face in the mirror… I am there inside!"

He was inside her. He'd been inside her soul for practically all her life. And he was still there. She'd left him that one fateful night of the last opera he ever showed himself at, but not a day had passed since that she did not think of him.

Had she made the right choice? Was Raoul the one she was meant to be with? She loved him, she knew that. Or was she just trying to convince herself?

He was a great guy, no doubt about that. He was a gentleman, rich, and obviously he adored her with all he had. But there was something lacking. A certain fire, a spark he could never have.

Since that last night she ever saw him, she wondered if he was still around. If he still heard her song wherever he was. But in her heart she knew he did not. She no longer felt his presence, no longer heard him in her sleep. He was truly gone from her life, and instead making her feel relieved, it made her ache for him.

Ashamed to admit it, she knew she'd fallen in love with him. She had been ready at that moment when she thought she'd have to be with him for eternity. She'd been willingly read to marry him, to love him, to be the queen of his night. That kiss, so filled with longing, had never left her. He felt it too; she knew he did, with just the way he looked at her after it. He'd felt the trueness, the fire, the burning passion between their lips when they'd touched.

So why did he push her away? Why did he make her go with Raoul? Especially after he told her "Christine, I love you".

And she'd just stood there silently, too scared to say what she knew she should've. She loved him too. But all she did was give him back the ring, and walk away to leave with Raoul. And that was it. The music of the night was over, the Phantom finally at rest. And her heart was shattered in pieces.

Christine looked at her reflection, so haunted and pale. She longed for him, much as she denied it. She couldn't take looking in the mirror anymore.

She stood up, and realized what she had to do. She had to find him.


	2. Another Love

_You have brought me_

_to that moment when words run dry..._

Late afternoon, Christine carefully slipped out of the mansion while Raoul was doing important work in his study room. A carriage was waiting for her outside.

"To the old Opera Populaire, monsieur," she said quietly, handing the driver money.

The driver nodded and helped her into the seat. He climbed into his own and they clip-clopped away from the grand de Chagny house.

_In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came..._

Would he even still be there? The Opera Populaire was abandoned now, after all. Monsieurs Firmin and Andre had sold it almost immediately after the famous disaster, to an old count who had promised Monsieur Lefavre a favor to keep the Opera Populaire from becoming derelict. There was hardly any chance Erik would remain in such a dismal, lonely place.

But then again... it probably made no difference to him if he was still there.

Christine was lost in her swirl of thoughts when suddenly the carriage stopped. She looked up and saw the once-beautiful building towering in front of her. Memories flooded into her head and tears sprung into her eyes. Even before the Phantom of the Opera, she'd had many amazing times here since she was little. This had been where she grew up and been taken care of. Now it was an empty building, a chilling ghostly reminder that the past was just that--past.

She stepped off the carriage and slowly walked up the steps to the building, her heart pounding in her head. Her legs felt weak and numb, like they were going to give out and she'd topple over. What an entrance.

She reached out to open the door. She paused, her fingers lingering centimeters away from the handle. Could she really do this? Could she really face him if he was there? Or worse, face the disappointment if he was not there?

She looked back at the buggy, then to the door. She took a deep breath. No. She had to do this. No going back now.

_No backward glances..._

Her heart leapt as she opened the door a crack. Shaking, she stepped inside the dark, musty building. She softly closed the door behind her.

Silence.

Christine looked around the lit room, still as grand and beautiful as she remembered. The statues still looked polished, though lonely. The room still resonated the same elegance she'd always remembered.

A tear fell unwillingly out of her eye. She'd been foolish to do this. She wasn't ready to face everything. She'd spent two years doing her best to put everything behind her and now she was ruining all of that with coming back here.

She wiped the tear. No. She had to do this. She would regret it highly if she turned away. Kind of like how she regretted turning away two years ago now.

-----------

Erik looked at his beautiful prospective bride laying there in his bed. Alexandrine Evrard, one of the exquisite dancers of the old Opera Populaire. She'd been there the famous last night, fallen in love with his voice when he'd foolishly serenaded Christine Daae during Don Juan.

Looking back, he couldn't even believe how naive he'd been to love Christine. Christine had been a weak girl who chose that insolant pretty boy simply because he was a rich patron and her childhood sweetheart. Who the hell has a sweetheart when they're a child? She'd abandoned, left him, right when he confessed his love for her, gave him back the ring. What heartless girl does that?

It had been his choice to tell her to go, simply because he couldn't bare the fact that she'd be with him under false pretenses. He didn't want a bride who resented waking up every day next to him, to only be with him because she wanted to save the man she'd truly loved.

But Alexandrine...

Right after Christine had left him for the final time, he'd hidden from the mob when they'd come for him. He'd hidden for days, months, and finally everyone assumed he'd killed himself. When he emerged, he was more than startled to find someone still waiting for him in his lair. A stunning young woman, no less. Her hair was long and blonde, her eyes large and blue. She was the very physical opposite of Christine and, if it were possible, even more beautiful.

"Are you the Phantom of the Opera?" she'd asked in her strong yet sweet voice.

"Who are you?" he countered. "If you are looking to lock me up for murder, I will run and you will not catch me."

to your stammering babble."

"I came.. to.. to see you," she finished, folding her arms. She looked a little more sure now, and stepped forward again.

"Came to see the genuine article, right?" Erik stepped toward her menacingly. "Came to see how deformed I really was? Or are you perhaps one of the Vicomte's friends, come to warn me to stay away from Christine Daae?" He had to spit out the name.

"No, I am not, and I really wish you'd let me explain," she said freshly, stepping closer to him. Her eyes bore right into his. "I know this may sound very odd and perhaps out of the ordinary, but I love you."

"No, no, that's not it at all," she said, looking a little unsure now, stepping back. "I came because.. I came.."

"Speak, girl. I have more things to do than listen to your stammering babble.

"I came because I love you," she said boldly.

His eyes widened and he stepped back. "What?"

"Okay, I know it's crazy," she said. "But I can't stop thinking about you or your voice. That last night of the Opera when I heard you sing, it pierced my heart. It really did. I've waited so long to finally meet you. I'm not here to bring you in or to give you a message from the Vicomte. I'm here because I need to hear your voice. I can't imagine living now without hearing your song."

His heart started beating faster. "What's your name?"

She looked a little taken aback. "Alexandrine Evrard."

"That's a beautiful name."

"What's yours? I wouldn't think your name would actually be the Phantom of the Opera." She smiled, suddenly even making herself more striking.

He found himself smiling back. "I'm Erik."

"It's nice to finally meet you face-to-face, Erik," Alexandrine said softly, still smiling.

And it began. In a year and a half, Erik taught her to sing, to feel the music, and finally to love. They spent passionate nights together, and Erik found himself forgetting more and more about Christine and falling more and more in love with Alexandrine. She was bold, confident, fresh, and absolutely crazy for him. He loved that. He needed that.

The music of the night had started again, and now it would last forever. He loved again. He was loved in return. There was nothing he needed now.

As he gazed down lovingly at Alexandrine, he gently caressed her cheek with his finger.

Christine was officially gone from his life, and his heart.


End file.
